


The Attempted Confrontation

by Sarah1281



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Arguing, Crack, Gen, Nitpicking, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/pseuds/Sarah1281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valjean and Javert have their epic confrontation...or at least try to. Things would probably go smoother if they stopped talking over each other and nitpicking everything the other says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Attempted Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a kink!meme prompt about “'The Confrontation', but with them going "wait, what?" at every other thing they're saying to each other.

“Valjean, at last, we see each other plain,” Javert declared solemnly, announcing his presence. 

Valjean took one last look at Fantine’s body before promptly jumping up and standing a good distance away from Javert, making sure to have something he could use as a weapon if need be within reach. Now, he was fully aware that now was probably not the time but he couldn’t resist. “See each other plain? As opposed to what? I know that I saw you plain this whole time. Were you having some eye problems, Inspector? Perhaps seeing me in a nice blue tint or something? I know that that’s your favorite color.” 

“I mean that now I see you and I know you for Valjean, the thief!” Javert replied, annoyed. 

Valjean nodded. “Well in that case you really should have said that you finally see me plain because, again, I recognized you immediately. You haven’t changed at all in eight years. And even if you had you say your name a lot so I’m sure I would have caught on sooner or later. And you still saw me plain, you just didn’t recognize me.”

“That’s why I didn’t see you plain!” Javert insisted. 

But Valjean shook his head. “It’s not quite the same thing.” 

“ ‘Monsieur le maire’,” Javert growled out. “You’ll wear a different chain.” 

“Now, I know exactly what you mean by that latter chain, you’re talking of sending me back to Toulon,” Valjean reasoned. “But what is this ‘different’ chain you’re referring to?” 

“Your livery collar,” Javert said impatiently, “your chain of office.”

Valjean nodded with mock seriousness. “Ah, of course. I am not entirely sure that that was a pun, exactly, but it was painful all the same.” 

“That chain of office that you probably stole,” Javert said suspiciously. 

Valjean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be absurd. They gave it to me when they made me mayor. And why that mocking lilt to my title?” 

“Well obviously you were never really mayor,” Javert said matter-of-factly. 

“Why not?” Valjean asked. 

Javert stared at him. “Because you are a convict. A convict can’t be mayor.” 

“I was appointed by the king twice,” Valjean reminded him. “I think that the king can appoint a convict mayor if he wants to. I mean, really, who is going to tell him that he can’t?” 

“The king will surely rescind your appointment once he learns the truth!” Javert exclaimed. 

Valjean raised his eyebrow. “Will he? The fact that he would have to sure seems to say something about my legitimately being mayor.” 

“You won’t be when he declares that you are not!” Javert shouts. 

“Which he hasn’t yet,” Valjean retorted. “Besides, in addition to my legitimate appointment – though not an appointment under my birth name – I have spent the last several years being the mayor. That’s not really something you can pretend to do and then not do it. People would notice.” 

“Unless you had an extremely competent secretary or second-in-command,” Javert pointed out. 

“But I didn’t,” Valjean countered. 

“How do I know that?” Javert demanded. 

“Wouldn’t you have noticed someone like that with all the time you spent watching me?” Valjean asked reasonably. 

“I would hope so but then again I not only failed to notice that you were actually Valjean but I apologized to you for suspecting it and tried to resign,” Javert replied. 

“Well you can trust that I was far too paranoid about someone discovering my secret, especially since you came to town, to work so closely with someone and did all the work myself,” Valjean promised. 

“I can’t just take the word of a thief,” Javert said bluntly. 

Valjean just sighed. 

“And even if you were the mayor, which you’re not, you certainly aren’t still mayor now that your arrest has been ordered,” Javert continued. 

“But I haven’t even been convicted of anything!” Valjean protested. 

Javert gave him a look. 

“Recently,” he amended. “And even if they were on the verge of convicting Champmathieu when they thought he was me, it’s not official yet.” 

“Oh, it doesn’t even matter!” Javert said, exasperated. 

“Before you say another word, Javert,” Valjean begins. 

“Before I say another word?” Javert demands. “You’re the one who won’t stop nit-picking everything I say!” 

“Before you chain me up like a slave again,” Valjean continues, undeterred. 

Javert turned a little red and coughed. 

“What?” Valjean asked, nonplussed. 

“Think about how that just sounded,” Javert instructed. 

“I don’t get it.” 

“You spent how many years in prison?” Javert muttered under his breath. “It sounds like bondage.” 

Valjean nodded. “I know. That’s what I said.” 

“No, not that…Oh, never mind. I’m not going to be personally chaining you up,” Javert explains. “I realize that it must be…let’s see, twenty-eight years since your last arrest. That would sound impressive until you realize that, with the exception of five days, the rest of that time you were in jail awaiting trial, in Toulon, or on the run. I’ll just be putting you in hand-cuffs and then take you back down to Arras where you’ll await your new trial.”

“Well before we start that process then,” Valjean corrects himself. 

“And I find your comparing your situation to slavery to be rather offensive, personally,” Javert continued casually. 

“Really? Do you think you find it almost as offensive as being treated like a slave?” Valjean asked innocently. 

“More so undoubtedly since you’re being dramatic and I’m right,” Javert answered. “Slavery is a terrible, terrible institution that forces a terrible life upon innocent people. It breaks their bodies and breaks their spirit and it is the most inhumane thing I’ve ever heard of.”

“The same thing happens to convicts!” Valjean burst out. 

“No it’s completely different,” Javert insists. 

“Not being able to leave, being torn away from your home, being punished every time you try to escape, having no control over your own life, being beaten for the most imaginary of offences, forced hard labor for hours on end…It sounds pretty similar to me,” Valjean argued. 

“Did you miss the part where I said that they were innocent?” Javert asked pointedly. 

“So that’s the only thing that bothers you about their treatment?” Valjean couldn’t decide if he was unable to believe this or not. 

“What else is there to take issue with?” Javert asked rhetorically. “If someone is a vile, filthy criminal then nothing is too bad for them as long as it is within the bounds of the law.” 

Valjean took a deep breath. “Listen to me! There is something I must do.” 

He waited. 

“Well?” Javert asked finally. “Aren’t you going to tell me what it is?”

“Sorry,” Valjean apologized. “I was sort of expecting you to say no and so I wanted to give you a chance without interrupting me.” 

“That’s so thoughtful,” Javert said dryly. “But if you’re so sure that I would say no then why even ask?” 

“Because this is really important and if there is any chance at all that you would say yes then I’m going to need to take advantage of that,” Valjean told him. “So is there?”

“That would depend on what that thing is,” Javert replied. “If you need to change your clothes then I could live with that as long as I accompany you and do not let you out of my sight at any time. If you need to transfer the ownership of your factory over to someone else so that it doesn’t all fall apart after you’re gone then that would be a prudent course of action. If you want to write out a full confession then I would support you fully in that endeavor.” 

“I already confessed at the courthouse.” 

“You confessed to being Jean Valjean, not to any particular crime,” Javert protested. 

“And my being Jean Valjean isn’t a crime now? My mistake. That is not the impression you have been giving me,” Valjean said pointedly. 

“Well, I suppose it’s a confession as far as the breaking of parole goes,” Javert reasoned. 

“And making provisions for my factory workers…I really should have done that at some point. I mean, I knew that I was at least considering going, I should have left instructions behind in case I did do that. Now I just feel like an ass,” Valjean admitted. 

“So that wasn’t what you wanted to do?” Javert asked, a bit unnecessarily. 

“This woman leaves behind a suffering child,” Valjean explained. 

“Good for her?” Javert asked, uncertain as to what that had to do with anything. Then it clicked. “Oh, don’t tell me you have to raise a child before going to prison! Apparently she was ‘but that high’! I’m not entirely sure how old that would make her but it would take years!” 

“There is none but me who can intercede,” Valjean informed him. 

“You’re being dramatic again,” Javert accused. “You are seriously telling me that there is literally no one else who could possibly do anything about this child that probably wouldn’t be suffering if her mother weren’t so weak except for you, the man who must now be rearrested and sent back to Toulon forever?”

“Well, there probably are,” Valjean conceded. “But none of them will so it really doesn’t matter.” 

“You just have a savior complex,” Javert accused. 

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need to be rescued!” Valjean shot back. “And it wasn’t because her mother was weak, it’s because her mother is clearly being taken advantage of by the people she left Cosette with.” 

“Well then her mother’s an idiot,” Javert said flatly. “That doesn’t really make it any more anybody else’s problem.” 

“In mercy's name, three days are all I need,” Valjean promised. “Then I'll return, I pledge my word. Then I'll return...”

“Are you kidding me?” Javert demanded. “You expect me to just wander back because you promise that you’ll return! You’re a convict! There’s a reason no one actually lets convicts swear oaths! You can’t trust their word. And even if you could, no sane man would voluntarily come back and face Toulon again!” 

“I already exposed myself to save a stranger even though that was the first time in years I haven’t felt hunted,” Valjean argued. 

“Yes but that was to save somebody and this time nobody else is in peril so you would have no need to return,” Javert countered. 

“Are you admitting that I just did something that would probably have gotten me sent to Toulon forever to save somebody?” Valjean asked hopefully. 

“I am admitting that after you admitted that you didn’t stay to be arrested,” Javert said instead. 

“They didn’t seem inclined to do anything anytime soon and I had things to do,” Valjean said with a shrug. “I told them where I’d be.” 

“You always have things to do. If I waited for you to finish having things to do then I would never arrest you. Ever. Say I give you three days and you don’t fall in love and decide to raise this brat as your own and really come back. Well then I won’t be able to arrest you because you have to go get this kitten down from a tree and on your way there there’s this boy who fell down a well and you will literally spend the rest of your life going from one hopeless case to another, rescuing half of France!” Javert ranted. 

Valjean stared at him for a long moment. “Call me crazy, Inspector, but that doesn’t actually sound like a bad thing. If you know that I will do nothing but good deeds for the rest of my life then won’t society be better served by letting me get on with it?” 

“I do not care about society, I am concerned with the law and the law says that you are a menace,” Javert said firmly. 

“Really? Because you just said that-” Valjean started to say. 

“Menaces can go around making the world a better place,” Javert interrupted. “You must think me mad! I've hunted you across the years. A man like you can never change. A man such as you.” 

“You’ve hunted me across the years?” Valjean repeated. “You haven’t even been in Montreuil that long. Were you looking for me before we encountered each other again? Because if so then you just were not very good at that, now were you? You probably don’t want to brag about it.” 

“I was not looking for you until I came across you,” Javert told him. “But once I met you, I quickly realized who you were.” 

“Good because the idea that you’ve been looking for me for years kind of makes you seem like both a stalker and a sad, sad man who has nothing in his life,” Valjean told him frankly. 

“I have plenty to do that does not involve hunting down one particular prisoner but when he is right in front of me then I do what I have to do,” Javert insisted. 

“And what do you mean by a man like me can never change?” Valjean demanded. “Is there something special about me in particular, because I really don’t think you know me that well and I’ve changed a lot, or do you not think that anyone can change? Why ‘a man such as me’ in particular?” 

“Convicts cannot change. Once they are evil they are evil forever,” Javert said confidently. 

“If someone can turn evil then why can’t they turn un-evil?” Valjean asked reasonably. 

“Because it does not work that way. Once you allow evil into your heart and soul then it is there to stay and there is nothing you can do about it no matter how many orphans you try to adopt.”

“You realize that I literally just gave away more than two million francs to improve everything and everyone around me and it worked, right?” Valjean asked. “And I would continue to give except that I know that I cannot because I’m about to lose everything.” 

“It is your own damn fault for confessing,” Javert said indifferently. 

Valjean blinked. “I…did not just hear you chastising me for doing the right thing.” 

“You did not,” Javert agreed. 

“Well, alright then,” Valjean said, still a little unnerved. 

“And besides, everyone knows that you just threw money at people so you wouldn’t have to talk to them,” Javert said bluntly. He paused. “Or at least I knew that but I maintain that everybody should have because it was really obvious.” 

Valjean flushed. “You make me sound so unfriendly.” 

“You have yet to deny it.” 

“I was just…I don’t know how to talk to people,” Valjean admitted. “Whatever communication I did as a convict is hardly appropriate for anything outside of a prison, before Toulon I’m lucky I can remember the names of my nieces and nephew, and after that I haven’t really had time to learn how to properly socialize, if that’s even possible at my age. There are so many things I cannot talk about, do not know about, do not have an opinion about…It is unbelievably awkward. It is better to just not try rather than have a panic attack because I might have just given myself away.” 

Javert nodded. “So what I’m hearing is that you throw money at people so you don’t have to talk to them.” 

Valjean’s eye twitched. “Believe of me what you will. There is a duty that I'm sworn to do.” 

At the same time, Javert was intoning, “Men like me can never change. Men like you can never change.” 

“Now you’re just repeating yourself,” Valjean complained. 

“Not true,” Javert denied. “I also added that men like me can never change either.” 

“Well I’m glad that you’re at least be fair about the no one is allowed to change bit,” Valjean said grudgingly. 

“I didn’t say that no one is allowed to change,” Javert argued. “I said that people like you and people like me can’t change. I don’t make the rules. I wish that all convicts could change. It would make France, and indeed the entire world, a better place.” 

“So we have law-abiding citizens and ex-convicts who cannot change. What other groups of people are there?” Valjean asked blankly. “Besides, I wasn’t always the kind of person I was now nor the kind of person I was in Toulon.” 

“You must have been or you wouldn’t have turned into them,” Javert reasoned. 

“You contradicted yourself right there. I cannot turn into someone if I always was that person!” Valjean exclaimed. 

“I will bow to your experience on this matter,” Javert said lightly. 

“And my several selves are wildly different!” Valjean continued. 

“You might want to have a doctor look at that,” Javert advised. “I thank you for so graciously allowing me to believe what I want but I assure you that I was going to do that anyway. And it is hardly my problem if you go around making promises that you cannot keep. I’ll bet she didn’t even believe that you were actually going to do it anyway.”

“She did, actually,” Valjean informed him. 

Javert blinked. “Did she now? Huh. Well if she weren’t dying and crazy and stupid then she wouldn’t have. No, 24601.” 

“You know nothing of my life. All I did was steal some bread,” Valjean said simultaneously. He looked at Javert, puzzled. “You said those two words extremely slowly.”

“What does the cadence of my speech matter?” Javert demanded, annoyed. 

“I’m just saying that I managed to say a lot in the time it took you to say ‘No 24601’,” Valjean said. “And can you not call me that? It’s hurtful.” 

Javert’s eye twitched. “I do not care if it is ‘hurtful’! It is your name.”

“I was released from prison so no it’s not. Not that it ever was, really, but it’s less so now,” Valjean added as an afterthought. 

“But you’re going back to prison,” Javert pointed out. 

“Agree to disagree,” Valjean said simply. “And even if I do, they’ll just give me a different number.” 

“You’re right,” Javert realized unhappily. “But…24601 really suits you. You just look like a 24601. And it really rolls off the tongue. What if they renumber you 9430 or something? Then I’ll have to rework everything I say.” 

“Poor you,” Valjean said sarcastically. “And I thought cadences didn’t matter to you!” 

“They don’t,” Javert said unconvincingly. He wasn’t lying, though, just deeply in denial. 

“I feel like you only call me 24601 as a dehumanizing tactic,” Valjean complained. 

“I feel like you’re probably right,” Javert agreed easily enough. “What about it?”

Valjean opened his mouth and then closed it several times before finally settling on. “I don’t like it.” 

“That’s rather the point,” Javert said, rolling his eyes. “And the hell all you did was steal some bread!” 

Valjean crossed his arms petulantly. “It’s true.” 

“To begin with, your initial crime was also robbing a house,” Javert reminded him. 

“Breaking a windowpane!” 

“And then there was the poaching,” Javert continued. 

“Which I was never charged for!” 

“Maybe not officially,” Javert conceded. “But come on. We all know the score. But say you were right and all you did was steal some bread. That’s still illegal and that still makes you a criminal and so I still have no sympathy for you.”

“My sister’s seven children were starving!” 

“And your failed crime made life so much easier for them,” Javert said wryly. “We’ve had this conversation before and we’re never going to change our minds. You believe that crime is perfectly acceptable and I believe that that is not the case and that is why you’re the convict and I’m the respectable lawman who really needs to learn to trust his incredible instincts more.” 

“That is not precisely what I-” Valjean started to say. 

“And let’s pretend for a moment that all you did was steal some bread when you went into prison and that you were horrible wronged because of your motivations,” Javert said slowly. 

“I am willing to accept that I should have gotten some punishment but five years was too much,” Valjean declared. 

Javert waved a hand. “Yes, yes. Since then you’ve had your four escape attempts, breaking parole, some serious fraud charges, robbing that small child, and probably robbing that bishop as well. Say that there was another man who really did just steal a loaf of bread and then he went to prison and ended up killing a lot of people. Maybe you were just talking about what started your downward spiral but this serial murderer will get no sympathy from me since his initial crime was not as serious as murder.” 

“I’m hardly as bad as a murderer!” Valjean protested. 

Javert looked at him quizzically. “I know. I just said that.” 

“But you still compared me to one,” Valjean pressed. 

“Well you can compare me with one and it would not bother me a whit,” Javert said indifferently. “But then only one of us in this room is a righteous man. And what’s this rot about how I know nothing about your life? In addition to what I already stated, I spent more than a year watching you every day in Toulon! I know everything about you.” 

“Toulon hardly encompasses all of my life,” Valjean protested. 

“Adam. Luc. Gabriella. Sybbie. Corinne. Sarah. Theo.” 

“I-I’m not convinced,” Valjean said after a moment. 

“Your brother-in-law was crushed by a cart much like Fauchelevent’s and you could have saved him but you weren’t there. You spend too much time thinking and have a tendency to blame yourself for everything bad if you’re even just tangentially involved and your decision to accept punishment is erratic at best given that you always assign yourself more moral du ties,” Javert continued. “You only eat black bread. You will not light yourself a fire. You have nearly the entire Bible memorized.” 

“That’s…actually a little creepy,” Valjean said, looking mildly disturbed. 

“I can go on,” Javert offered. “You know how closely I watched you trying to prove that you were, well, you. And yet I still failed. If you hadn’t confessed…”

“That’s quite alright,” Valjean said quickly. “You know nothing of the world. You would sooner see me dead. But not before I see this justice done.” 

“My duty's to the law - you have no rights. Come with me, 24601,” Javert ordered. “Now the wheel has turned around. Jean Valjean is nothing now.” 

“See, you called me that again,” Valjean said, a vein throbbing in his forehead. “We should probably also stop talking over each other.” 

“I told you I was going to keep calling you that,” Javert said unapologetically. 

“I’m well aware that I have no rights even though that’s completely ridiculous as I’ve striven to live the best life I could these past eight years,” Valjean said. If he had been anyone else he would have sounded bitter but as it was he just sounded sad. “‘Jean Valjean is nothing now.’ I know it well. I realized that right before I left Digne. But, truth be told, Jean Valjean had been nothing for a very long time. Jean Valjean had never been anything. I…can’t see that changing.” 

“We’re on the same page, then,” Javert said, sounding strangely satisfied. 

“I shall have to try, though, for Cosette,” Valjean said determinedly. “Monsieur Madeleine was worth something. Maybe my new identity can be worth something as well.”

“You are still Jean Valjean at heart no matter what name you cloak yourself with,” Javert said accusingly. 

“Am I?” It was impossible to identify the look on his face. 

“Yes.” 

Valjean briefly closed his eyes. “What does ‘now the wheel has turned around’ even mean anyway?” 

“It means that the situation has returned to where it has begun, we have come full circle,” Javert explained. “You were nothing and imprisoned once before and now you will return to that.” 

“Oh. Why didn’t you just say that, then, instead of being all confusing?” Valjean wondered. 

“I thought it was perfectly clear,” Javert said stiffly. 

“Well of course you did or you wouldn’t have said it,” Valjean said, rolling his eyes. “But remember that I read far more than you do because I like books and you hate reading and I did not understand.” 

Javert just glowered at him. “I hardly think that you’re one to tell me that I know nothing about the world. I may have spent some time in Toulon, enough to know anything you could have learned there, but nowhere near as long as the nineteen years that you were locked up there. And Toulon hardly encompasses or even represents the rest of the world. I’ve travelled further than you have, even, when I was sent to Russia! The nerve of you telling me that I know nothing of the world!” 

“Well you may have travelled further than me but to know the world you must know people and to know people you must know human nature. Human nature can be studied in any small village,” Valjean said placidly. “You may have seen the world but you do not act like it. You allow no room for human failings or pity or mercy or forgiveness. You are a hard man and I do not know whether to pity you or those who you are called upon to serve justice to.” 

Javert growled at the mere thought that he was somehow failing in his duty. “You misunderstand me, then. All this about how I would rather see you dead! I have no interest in killing you. Your crimes demand that you be imprisoned forever and if they lay claim to your life one day then that is not my choice. It is not an either-or situation. It is not a matter of me either letting you go free or killing you.”

“Ah but what if it was?” Valjean asked. 

“It’s not.” 

“It could be.” 

“No, it really couldn’t,” Javert said stubbornly. “Frankly I would like an apology for you accusing me of wanting you dead.” 

“And I would like for you to stop calling me by my slave name,” Valjean countered. 

Javert narrowed his eyes. “Your prison name.” 

“It’s the same thing,” Valjean said, just as stubbornly. 

Javert sighed. “I will not call you that any more today.” 

Valjean considered it. “I will take what I can get. I apologize, Javert. That was insensitive.” 

“Thank you,” Javert said, mollified. “But what justice are you talking about? How is going to go raise that girl or see to her care, at least, any sort of justice?”

“It’s my fault that her mother tragically died and she was so sad and miserable and alone, wanting only happiness for her little daughter that it’s only justice that I ensure that she is the happiest little girl in all of France,” Valjean reasoned. 

“It is not your fault,” Javert objected. “And, given that this is me, you can trust that I am not just saying that.” 

“I do trust that,” Valjean said, nodding. “I just believe that you are wrong.”

“Your foreperson was the one who fired her,” Javert reminded him. 

“And she was my worker. I should have been paying more attention,” Valjean said, looking down. 

“You cannot possibly have such a personal involvement with your factory and also be mayor!” Javert exclaimed, feeling surreal that he was telling a convict that he should not be so hard on himself. For this, at least. “Could not possibly have had, sorry. And if she chose not to come to you out of pride and then abandoned that pride by becoming a whore still without letting you know…you did what you could. More than literally anyone else I have ever met would have done.” 

“And yet I’m still a bad person,” Valjean said sarcastically. 

“Do not look at me, it is the law,” Javert said flatly. “And just because Fantine was miserable and wanted better for Cosette does not mean that anyone owes Cosette anything. Justice does not work like that.” 

“It should,” Valjean said, his eyes flashing. 

Javert just sighed and shook his head. “But I must say that I am a little concerned that apparently the reason that you do not wish to die right now is that you must take care of Cosette. Whether this would take three days or ten years, would you be perfectly fine to die when that is over?” 

“What difference does it make to you?” Valjean challenged. “You don’t want me to even meet her!” 

“I did mention the part about how I did not want you to die, yes?” Javert asked rhetorically. “I’m just trying to make sure that you don’t waste away from lack of Cosette.” 

“Can such things be?” Valjean asked skeptically. 

Javert shrugged. “I’ve seen it happen.” 

“I am warning you Javert; I'm a stronger man by far. There is power in me yet; my race is not yet run,” Valjean cautioned him. 

“Dare you talk to me of crime? And the price you had to pay? Every man is born in sin! Every man must choose his way!” Javert returned his trying to talk over Valjean. “What does your strength have to do with anything? Are you threatening me?” 

“No…” Valjean said slowly, innocently. “Just reminding you that I do, in fact, have a ridiculous amount of strength, that’s all.”

“Well you’re certainly letting me know that you’re not done running even though you really are since you’re going back to Toulon,” Javert replied. He hesitated. “I do appreciate that warning, though.” 

“It’s a professional courtesy,” Valjean said, nodding. “And what do you mean ‘dare I talk to you of crime’? Yes, I dare. I think that I know at least as much as you do by now. I’ve also probably committed more of them than you despite the fact I really have not done all that much. Certainly nothing worth nineteen years of my life.” 

“You’re a criminal and you act so self-righteous,” Javert said thunderously. “I am so sick of hearing about how unfair your sentence was. You were the one who chose to escape four times and when everyone has the same punishment it is fair. You did wrong and were punished. You would have been out in four years and not been put on probation forever if you had just behaved. But then, that might be asking for too much out of a convict.” 

“I do not mean to be self-righteous. I just do not feel that my past should prevent me from trying to live a good life and from knowing a thing or two about crime,” Valjean told him. “Every man is born in sin? I suppose that I can accept that. That is why we all must rely on the grace of God. You say that we must all choose our way but once our path is chosen, so far back that we never really thought of it, never knew the bridges we were crossing until we had crossed them and burned them behind us…Is that really the way that it is? Can there be no other chances? I chose the path of a good man eight years ago in Digne after having been shown mercy when I deserved none. Does that count for nothing with you?” 

“It counts for nothing with the law,” Javert said simply. “Unless, I suppose, the religious elements are impressed by your finding religion. I don’t know; it could happen.” 

“I am warning you Javert. There is nothing I won't dare! If I have to kill you here, I'll do what must be done!” Valjean threatened. 

“You know nothing of Javert. I was born inside a jail. I was born with scum like you. I am from the gutter too!” Javert said dramatically. 

“I know plenty about you!” Valjean objected. “We’ve known each other for the exact same amount of time and, unlike me, you weren’t actually hiding. I…will admit that I did not know that you were born in a jail, however. Why tell me this now?” 

“I just wanted to prove to you that you knew nothing about me,” Javert said matter-of-factly. 

“But now I know that,” Valjean pointed out. “So by proving your point you sort of disprove it.” 

“There are plenty more things about me that you do not know,” Javert insisted. “I would tell you but then, as you said, you would know.” 

“There is plenty I know now,” Valjean repeated. “For instance, I know that you always light yourself on fire when you stand too near a stove. I know that for all that you are harsh and unforgiving, you apply this universally and even to yourself. I know that you have more honor than sense. I know that you would never take a bribe. I know that people fear to shoot you. I know that you only have the one greatcoat. I know that you manage to get by and be respectable on a truly deplorable salary. I know that you will tell yourself that you will forget me but that every time you hear of something that sounds like something I might have done you will suspect. I know that one day your idealism will come crashing into reality. I know that that might well destroy you.” 

Javert looked away. 

“I am not scum,” Valjean said firmly. “If I ever was scum, and there is a good chance that I was, then I was only as Toulon made me. I made a wrong choice that ruined my life when I chose to break the law but I was far better than I was in Toulon before I got there. And what does it matter that you were born in the gutter? You managed to raise yourself out of there just as I did.” 

“Do not compare me to yourself!” Javert growled out. 

Valjean was quiet for a moment. “You are right. You did not have to fall first. That you were there at all was not your fault.” 

Javert’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. He did not need pity from a convict! “Threatening to kill me? Even with a warning to pretty it all up, that’s a bit ‘not changed’, don’t you think?”

Valjean looks taken aback. “I-”

“So I should just let you go, for three days or perhaps even longer, and accept that you are a changed man…or you will kill me. I know that people cannot change but surely even you must realize the contradiction here!” Javert exclaimed. 

Valjean had the grace to look embarrassed. “Okay, fine, I wouldn’t really kill you.” 

“Am I supposed to believe the word of a thief?” Javert asked contemptuously. 

“What? So you can believe me when I say I will kill you but not when I say that I will not?” Valjean demanded. “How does that work?” 

“Well, logically I have to believe one of those since they are a true dichotomy,” Javert said reasonably. “And as a convict I know which one I find more convincing.” 

Valjean looked like he wanted to argue but took a deep breath instead before calmly walking over to the window and jumping outside of it into the river. It was December. 

Javert hurried over to the window, quickly decided that no good would be served by him getting himself killed chasing after a man who would probably freeze or drown anyway, and turned away. “I hope he realizes that this means that I won.”


End file.
